GHOST
by Skye Coulson
Summary: So, this is basically my way of taking AoS characters and sticking them into the storyline of Ghost. Basically, this is the result of being given a narcotic/hypnotic cocktail for anesthesia before foot surgery. Yes ... This story ACTUALLY played out in my head on the operating table.
1. Life Is A Gift You Have No Lease For

**We'll Be Ghosts**

* * *

**Disclaimer:  
**As always … I own nothing.

**Rating:  
**T

**Genre:  
**Romance/tragedy (with a just a dash of hurt/comfort for a nice balance)

**Pairings:  
**Coulsye  
Skyward

**Lyrics Used:  
**Sonata Arctica "Blood"

* * *

Life Is A Gift You Have No Lease For Anymore

* * *

_Blood is a bodily fluid in animals that delivers necessary substances such as nutrients and oxygen to the cells and transports metabolic waste products away from those same cells_

* * *

It had been one of their hardest-fought battles. And, just when they thought they'd had the last of the enemy soldiers flushed out, Coulson felt a sharp sting in his chest. Watching as the man next to her – the man she loved more than life, itself – fell to the ground, at her feet, Skye turned up to see a man dressed in black, from head-to-toe – including a black ski mask – which blocked her ability to identify him, Raising her own weapon, she emptied the clip in the direction of Coulson's mystery shooter. However, this man must have been highly trained to dodge every shot so skillfully. However, Skye knew she had bigger fish to fry as she watched the shooter disappear. Throwing herself to her knees at Coulson's side, she cradled the dying man in her arms.

"Phil." The young woman whispered, shakily, as she cradled the man she loved against her chest – much as he had done with her after she'd been shot. "Just hold on. Okay? Just hold on." She whispered, frantically, recalling his own words to her – words that had given her the will to keep fighting when all odds were stacked against her. Judging by the looks of things, the odds weren't exactly in Phil's favor, now, either.

"No can do." Phil replied, breathlessly, as he coughed up a mouthful of blood. "I'm cloudin' out, here, honey." He whispered, weakly. Deep down, he knew he had to fight. He couldn't leave Skye. Not here. Not like this. Not on a bloodied _battleground _littered with corpses, for Christ's sake. He just didn't have anything left to fight _with_.

"Not an option." Skye replied, her voice thick and watery with the tears she refused to allow to fall. If she cried, that meant that this was all real. She couldn't allow that.

Just as Coulson attempted to respond, Skye watched as he fell limp in her arms. Meanwhile – completely oblivious to what had just happened – Phil noticed a brilliantly bright white spotlight shining down, seemingly out of nowhere. Upon closer inspection, he noticed tiny little white orbs glistening in the light. The whole sight was utterly breathtaking. _Though, I suppose that __**could **__also just be a collapsed lung._ Phil thought to himself as he rose to his feet to inspect the light behind Skye. As he moved past her, however, he froze to the spot when he noticed his own lifeless body cradled in Skye's arms as the hacker rocked back and forth as she sobbed, quietly, while repeating "No." and screaming "SOMEBODY! ANYBODY! HELP US!"

Finally, Phil watched – helpless – as the rest of their team and a med team surrounded himself and Skye. Watching as they unceremoniously wrenched him from her grasp, Phil moved to shove the med team out of the way only to freeze when he watched his hand move right _though _them. Turning back to the light, Phil watched as the orbs surrounded his body – seeming to guide him to the light. Staring at Skye, the whole time, he just couldn't leave her. It was as if some _other _unknown force was pulling him back to her. That force was stronger. "I can't leave her." He admitted, brokenly, surprised that it didn't seem to bother him that nobody else heard him, as the orbs seem to accept that and moved back to the light – without him – as the light then faded away to nothing.

Staring at the dark alleyway where the light had disappeared from, Phil wrenched his gaze away to stare at Skye. Running back to her, he joined the group as the med team loaded his body into an ambulance. Just as Skye had refused to leave him – and climbed inside – just before the doors slammed shut, Coulson mustered up the last of his courage and threw himself _through _the doors and into the ambulance.

Attempting to comfort the owner of his heart, Phil tried to wrap her up in his arms – to whisper to her that everything would be okay – Phil felt his heart shatter all over again as his arms passed right though her. Devastated, Phil could only watch helplessly as she cried her eyes out, watching them attempt to resuscitate his still form.

* * *

_The color of life and arrow of fear made flow | Auburn rivers in the snow dance the death | Of fading peace of mind_

* * *

"Skye." The surgeon called, gently, entering the waiting room where her patient's team awaited news of their friend's condition. This was the one part of her job she truly loathed. Delivering her patients' friends and family bad news.

"Yes!" Skye replied, breathlessly, whipping her head around to face the surgeon as she immediately halted her millionth lap of pacing the waiting room floor. "How is he?! Is he gonna be okay?!" She asked, hurriedly.

Sighing heavily, the nurse replied. "The bullet fragmented inside his chest. The majority of the bullet went through his heart while the smaller fragments pierced his left lung and even his intestines."

"But, you can _fix _it, right?!" Skye argued, hopefully.

"We resected what we could." The surgeon admitted. "But, I'm afraid there was just too much damage."

"So, you're saying there's just … _nothing _you can do?!" The young hacker asked, disbelieving. Doctors had brought Coulson _back from the __**dead**_. Surely, if they could do _that _they could **keep **him from _joining _the dead, in the first place … right?

"I'm saying that we can make him comfortable." The surgeon replied, patiently. "But … You should call his family. Get them here as soon as possible."

The team shared a look among themselves before Skye spoke a in a voice none of them recognized as her own. "_We're _his family."

Sighing sympathetically, the surgeon was all too familiar with this situation. It was entirely too common among S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. They all focused more on their careers – field agents were particularly guilty. "Then, in that case … I'm very sorry."

Skye couldn't believe what she'd just heard. She was going to lose the first person _in her life _to ever truly give a damn about her – to see her potential … her value. The young hacker hadn't even realized her knees giving way, underneath her, until she felt her supervising officer – Agent Grant Ward's – arms wrapping around her to catch her before she collapsed to the floor. Grateful for the much-needed support, Skye finally allowed herself a chance to break down – to cry her way through everything she was going through … Everything she _would _go through.

* * *

_And, if the day goes by | And, you start to question why | (Tell me why) | There is a way to hold on | You just gotta stay strong | Close your eyes, and, you will find | Love lives on inside_

* * *

Watching the scene unfold before him, Phil Coulson didn't know what to feel. The pain of knowing what Skye would go through without him would have killed him were he not just pronounced dead. Dead. For someone who'd been here, before, he still couldn't wrap his mind around that word describing him.

"You're dead." A disturbingly familiar voice called out to him from the bench against the wall opposite of him. Slowly turning his head to the sound of the voice, Phil couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Lucky bastard." The voice continued on, as if they were simply two neighbors, discussing the weather. "Coulda been the other ones." He added, gesturing to the same glistening orbs from before as they ensconced another man's body– his physical body, that was – on the operating table. Watching them pulling his body up and through the blinding white light from before he finally understood what was going on. _Well … Guess I should be glad I made it into Heaven, too, then … Whatever that entails … _He thought to himself as he gave up – entirely – on trying to figure out just what the _**hell **_ was going on, here.

"Dad?" Phil asked, confused, as he turned to his late father sitting on the bench, next to him. "What … I don't … What are you doing here?" He wondered, desperately searching for the answer that would make all of this … make sense for him.

"You're dead." The senior Coulson repeated, simply, with a casual wave of the hand. "Well … again … I should say." He added cryptically. Watching his son's jaw metaphorically, bouncing off the floor, William Coulson could only chuckle at his son's confusion. "Oh, yes. I was there the _first _time you were killed."

"I thought that was just a hallucination." Phil breathed, unable to wrap his mind around the situation.

"What?" William asked, feigning indignation. "You really think I'm gonna let my son die a hero and _not _be there to see it? Do you _know _how proud I was of you for what you'd done?! How proud I _still _am?!"

"You're … proud of me?" Phil breathed, utterly awestruck. He always remembered his father as being incredibly difficult to impress. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd heard his father use the word 'proud' in reference to him. He had to admit. It felt damn good. Or at least it _would _have … under better circumstances.

"Of course I am." William Coulson replied, more sincerely. "I was _always _proud of you." Sighing heavily, he leaned back on the bench as he closed his hands together in his lap before speaking, again. "My only regret in life was always my inability to express my emotions to others … You … your mom … That's why she left, you know. She would always tell me how much she loved me … All I ever gave her in return was just 'Ditto'."

"'Ditto'?" Phil questioned, curiously.

"In my opinion … 'I love you' was too overly-used." The senior Coulson replied. "I always felt that too many people said those words without truly meaning them – your mother excluded, of course …" He clarified. "So, I decided to come up with my own – unique – way of saying it." A brief pause lingered in the air before William continued speaking. "Your mom, though … She just never understood that. So … she left."

"But, why were you there when I _died_?" Phil asked, curiously. "And, why are you here, now?"

"Well …" The senior Coulson replied, tone lightening up. "The first time – in New York – like I said. I was proud that my son had grown up into such a fine hero. I wanted to be there – to see it for myself. I knew what Fury had in store for you – it wasn't your time to join us, yet, Phil." He elaborated, cryptically. "That's why I never made any contact with you. You still had work to do."

Nodding slightly, Phil realized that explanation made just about as much sense as any other would. Except for one thing … "So, then … Why are you here, now?"

Shrugging, casually, William replied "It's simple. … Your time has come, son. I thought it might be just a tad easier if you had someone you knew and trusted to walk you through those gates. Ya know, since you missed your ride."

Staring back through the OR door at the lab table where they'd covered up the dead body, Phil turned back to his father as he finally realized where this conversation was headed. "If it's my time … Why do I still feel like there's something I have to do, first?"

Sighing warmly, William clasped a hand around his son's shoulder as he spoke. "You think it might have something to do with Skye?" He asked, knowingly. "Oh, don't give me that look." He chastised as Phil stared at him with an awestruck stare. "I've known all about her from the moment the two of you met. I _have _been watching over my son and his new lease on life, ya know."

Suddenly, something clicked within Phil's mind. He _did _have something to accomplish. He needed answers. He needed to know who'd killed him. And if Skye would be safe, now, without him. Rising to his feet, he replied. "You're absolutely right, dad." He began turning toward the exit. "I know _exactly _what I have to do …"

* * *

**Author's Note:  
**So, this is pretty much gonna follow the exact storyline from _Ghost_. So, if you haven't seen that movie – that's good for both of us! If you _have –_ I sincerely hope this story is just as great as the movie. Either way, please read and review!

~Skye Coulson


	2. You're Always Here With Me

**G.H.O.S.T.**

**Disclaimer:  
**As always, I own nothing!

**Rating:  
**T

**Genre:  
**Romance/Tragedy

**Pairings:  
**Coulsye  
Skarett

**Lyrics Used:  
**Ashley Tisdale "You're Always Here"  
Carrie Underwood "Just A Dream"

* * *

You're Always Here With Me

* * *

_Meet me in my dreams | And, you can help me believe | Tell me there are gonna be better days | To see your face | And, to feel your embrace | I swear | I'll never forget what you gave so I_

_Pull myself together | I know it's for the better | Now | You'll be there to help me carry this way_

_They say that love won't die | And, then I realize | What will be will be | You're always here with me | And, in the darkest night | I feel you by my side | What will be will be | Always here with me_

_And, if a day goes by | You start to question why | (Tell me why) | There is a way to hold on | You just gotta stay strong | Just close and you will find | Love lives on inside_

* * *

Sighing to herself, Skye looked at herself in the mirror. _Today's the day … _She told herself. Today was the day of the funeral for Agent Phillip Coulson. Looking herself over in the mirror, Skye couldn't help feeling the gravity of the day's events as she stared at herself dressed in a knee-length black lace dress with capsleeves just over her shoulders and V-neckline exposing her chest. Around her neck was the small silver locket Phil had given her with their pictures inside. Clutching the locket in her hand, she jumped slightly at the knock on her door. "It's open." She called, as she moved over to her bed to apply the finishing touches to her make-up.

"Pardon the interruption." Agent John Garrett greeted, quietly, as he entered the bunk. As one of Phil's oldest friends – their friendship dating back to their very first days with S.H.I.E.L.D. - Garrett had been named Phil's successor and took over his role as leader of Phil's team after his death. "I was hoping you and I could talk for a minute – away from everyone else."

Setting her lipstick down, Skye turned to her new boss and offered a sad half-smile as she replied "Sure." Patting the space next to her on the bed, she shifted to face him properly as he eased down next to her.

"Ya know I was tossin' and turnin' all night … Debating how I should go about this – or if I should even do it at all …" Garrett replied, fidgeting in an uncharacteristically nervous manner as he pulled a small black box out of the inner breast pocket of his jacket. "But, I figured Phil'd want ya to have it." He offered, handing the box to Skye.

Shifting her gaze back and forth between the box and Garrett, Skye finally reached out with shaking hands to accept the box. Flipping it open, she felt all the oxygen suddenly leave her body as she took in the sight of the ring within the box. Inside was a stunning fourteen karat white gold single drop pave wavy engagement ring. Shaking, she carefully removed the ring from the box before setting the box aside to examine the ring. It was absolutely the most beautiful ring she'd ever seen with twenty-six pave set diamonds and a hidden row of diamonds along the bridge of the ring which only highlighted the center diamond.

"Phil showed it to me last week." Garrett spoke, gently, smiling softly at the young woman admiring the ring in her hands. "Said the moment he laid on eyes it, he knew it was the ring for you." Watching as Skye whipped her head up to look up at him, Garrett smiled warmly as he continued on. "Just like he knew … the moment he laid eyes on you … he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you …"

Skye didn't know what to say or do in response to what Garrett had just told her. _Phil wanted me to marry him … _Was all she could think about. She couldn't even decide if that made her feel better or worse. She knew – in her heart – she would have said 'yes' in an instant. But, now, she'd never have that chance. _But, at least I have his ring to remember him by … That's better than nothing … Right? … _Deciding that something was better than nothing at all, she slipped the ring onto her left ring finger before throwing her arms around Garrett's neck, gratefully.

"Thank you … Sir …" Skye's voice was thick and watery and trembling with emotion. At that point, she didn't know what to think or how to feel. Instead, she just clung to the man next to her.

"Anytime." Garrett replied, smiling triumphantly over Skye's shoulder. Everything was going just the way he'd planned it. Phil was dead. And, Garrett already had _one _of the things Phil had had that he'd wanted – his team. Now … He was well on the way to worming his way into the heart of the woman Phil had loved as well. As they finally pulled apart, he offered her a warm smile before speaking again. "And, Skye … Lose the 'sir' …" He spoke, gently. "I'm a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent … Just like you."

Sniffing slightly, Skye dabbed her eyes dry before speaking again. "Actually … I'm not _officially _an agent … Yet." She corrected, quietly.

"Oh yeah?" Garrett questioned, mischievously, pointing to Skye's top drawer in her nightstand. "Check your top drawer."

Confused, Skye did as she'd been ordered, sliding open the top drawer of her nightstand. Inside, she found what looked like a black, leather billfold she didn't recognize. Picking it up, she flipped it open to reveal a S.H.I.E.L.D. badge. With her ID in the other slot. "I don't-"

"Trust me, Skye …" Garrett replied, gently cutting her off. "You earned it." Without another word, the senior agent left Skye alone with her thoughts.

* * *

Arriving at the cemetery, Skye and her team were all touched by the number of operatives in attendance. "What a beautiful testament to the number of lives Agent Coulson touched." Jemma observed, taking in the sight.

"Skye." The young hacker whirled around when she heard a deep voice call her name.

"Director … Sir …" She greeted, nervously. _How, exactly, _does _one address the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.?!_ The young woman wondered, silently.

"I just wanted to offer you my condolences, personally." Director Nick Fury replied, warmly. "Phil was one of my closest personal friends. And, I know how much you meant to him."

Tearing up at the sentiment, Skye quickly wiped at her eyes before responding. "Thank you … Sir."

Shaking the young hacker's hand, the Director continued on – making his rounds through the rest of the crowd. Taking their seats, the rest of the team just waited silently for the ceremony to begin. Finally, the pastor stepped up to the podium to speak. "Today, we are gathered together for the graveside service for Phillip Coulson. On behalf of the family, I would like to thank you all for coming out, today." The reverend greeted the crowd of agents before him. "Now, I understand Agent Skye has prepared a memorial tribute so I will turn the floor over to her."

Rising from her seat Skye stepped up to the podium. "Hey, everyone …" She began, nervously. "I, uh … I spent _so _much time trying to think of … What I should say or … whatever. But, I guess I just never really thought this day would come. I mean, I should … have … I mean … Occupational hazard, right?" She offered, lamely, earning small smiles of support from her friends and teammates. "But, then, I heard a song that … perfectly describes everything I'm feeling, right now so …" Drawing a deep breath, she signaled Fitz to start the music. "Here it goes …" Next, a soft county melody began to play before Skye began to sing.

* * *

"It was two weeks after the day she turned eighteen | All dressed in white | Goin' to the church that night | She had his box of letters in the passenger seat | Sixpence in a shoe | Something borrowed, something blue | And, when the church doors opened up wide | She put her veil down | Tryin' to hide the tears | Oh, she just couldn't believe it | She heard the trumpets from the military band | And, the flowers fell out of her hand"

* * *

Even the stoic pilot, Agent Melinda May, had to wipe away a tear from her eyes as the hacker's melodious voice sang the soft, sad, song. She knew how close Phil and Skye had been. And, she'd known just how deeply the two had loved and cared for one another. Skye had been good for him. The young hacker had opened Phil up – even helped him to heal from the fiasco that had been the T.A.H.I.T.I. Project. It was just a damn shame their future had been stolen from them the way it had. Pulling the handkerchief from her purse, she wiped away another tear as Skye belted out the chorus.

* * *

"Baby, why'd you leave me | Why'd you have to go | I was countin' on forever | Now, I'll never know | I can't even breathe | It's like I'm lookin' from a distance | Standin' in the background | Everybody's sayin' he's a comin' home now | This can't be happening to me | This is just a dream"

* * *

Several yards away, standing next to a tree – away from everyone – Phil Coulson watched in awestruck horror. He still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that Skye was standing at the podium, singing at his funeral. He had to wipe the tears from his eyes as he watched the woman he loved pouring her heart and soul out. In that moment, he would have given anything to just hold her in his arms and tell her that everything would be all right.

* * *

"The preacher man said 'Let us bow our heads and pray' | Lord, please lift his soul, and, heal this hurt | Then, the congregation all stood up and sang the saddest song that she'd ever heard | Then, they handed her a folded up flag | And she held on to all she had left of him | Oh, and what could have been"

* * *

Skye paused at that final line to look at the ring on her hand. She may not have a tri-folded flag in a shadowbox. But, she did have something utterly perfect to remember the man that she loved by.

* * *

"And, then, the guns rang one last shot"

* * *

At that precise moment, Skye paused once more – while the music continued to play – for the twenty-one gun salute behind the podium. Every shot that rang out felt as though it ripped through her very core and threatened to tear her apart from the inside out.

* * *

"And, it felt like a bullet in her heart"

* * *

Skye's vision was almost entirely clouded out by her tears as she poured her heart and soul out in her song. Her voice trembled and threatened to break with the force of all the emotions she poured forth as she belted out the next chorus.

* * *

"Baby, why'd you leave me | Why'd you have to go | I was counting on forever | Now, I'll never know | I can't even breathe | It's like I'm looking from a distance | Standing in the background | Everybody's sayin' he's a comin' home, now | This can't be happening to me | This is just a dream"

* * *

Jemma nearly couldn't bear to watch her best friend pouring her heart and soul out on the podium before them. The pain was radiating off of her in waves and made the rest of them ache in sympathy as she fell to her knees – belting out the final chorus.

* * *

"Oh | Baby why'd you leave me | Why'd you have to go | I was counting on forever | Now, I'll never know | I can't even breathe | It's like I'm lookin' from a distance | Standin' in the background | Everybody's sayin' he's a comin' home, now | This can't be happening to me | This is just a dream"

* * *

Skye's voice dropped to a soft, emotional, watery whisper as she finished out the final lines of the song.

* * *

"Oh, this is just a dream | Just a dream | Yeah, yeah"

* * *

The rest of the service passed in a blur as Skye watched them lower Phil's coffin into the ground before she and the rest of her team each dropped a fistful of dirt into the grave.

* * *

**Author's Note:  
**If y'all wanna see the ring that Garrett gave Skye (from Phil) … here's the link … : / / www . google shopping / product / 18335678284382899540 ? newwindow = 1 & biw = 1360 & bih = 643 & output = search & q = 1970s + engagement + rings & oq = 1970s + engagement + rings & sa = X & ei = PMthU8jvHeup8QHh _ 4CQBg & ved = 0CCoQ1x0 (no spaces, obviously). Enjoy! As always, please read and review!

~Skye Coulson


End file.
